The Liar's Reign
by YouKnowWhatTheySayAboutHope
Summary: What happens when everything you know falls apart, when everything has been a lie all along, when the only person's truth you want is the one you cannot have? Or Alternate PLL
1. Chapter 1

The twins played with their dolls, at first sight seeming happy and innocent and carefree. But if you look closely, you'll notice a tension in the air, a storm lurking around the corner, a disaster waiting to happen.

Then… _snap._ One of the girls grabbed the other's doll, pulling at it fiercely in an effort to make it hers. The other stared angrily, blue eyes blazing as she held onto the toy, showing no sign of giving it to her sister.

The struggle intensified over the next few minutes, when suddenly the motor of a car was heard just outside the house, becoming louder and louder until it stopped completely.

The first twin suddenly loosened her grip on the doll, while the biggest, meanest smirk crossed her face. Suspiciously, her sister watched as the little girl jumped up from her chair and made her way towards the kitchen counter, reaching up to grab one of those big, forbidden knives that Mommy and Daddy always tell her to stay away from.

Meanwhile, the other girl has stood up as well. More cautious, as if she were afraid for her own safety, she moved slightly backwards, flinching as her armed sister took a step towards her with the weapon.

When they heard the rattling of keys and the _click_ of the opening door, the twin with the knife attacked.

Just not the way anyone would expect her to.

The blonde plunged the blade into her own shoulder, letting go of the handle and letting out the most miserable, pitiful wail you've ever heard.

Immediately, the parents came rushing in, followed by an older boy.

"Alison!" The mother shrieked as she set her eyes on her injured child. "Omigod, what happened? Kenneth, quick, call an ambulance!"

As her husband dialed, he sent a look that could kill to his other daughter. "Courtney? What have you done?"

By the end of the day, the guilty twin lay in a bed with stuffed pillows and buckets of ice cream, the innocent one behind bars surrounded by doctors and medical tests.

"We're moving to Rosewood," Kenneth declared the next day.

His family, consisting of a wife, one son, and one daughter, did not argue.


	2. Chapter 2

_September 5th 2010_

"Ian? Ian Thomas?"

At the sound of his name, Ian lifted his eyes from the coffee he was drinking. There, right in front of him stood his ex-roommate from college, a grin spread wide on his face.

"No way," he greeted in return. "Pound? How long has it been? A year?"

Pound laughed. "Yeah, I think so. Anyways, what are you doing back in Philly?"

"I'm just stopping by on my way to Rosewood," Ian muttered, grimly.

"What the hell do you want in Rosewood? I thought you hated it there."

"I do." Taking a sip of the rapidly cooling coffee, Ian sighed. "I just have to get back for a funeral."

"Is it Alison DiLaurentis'?" Pound asked. When the other man nodded, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh. What a tragedy, isn't it? I heard that she had it coming, though."

Suddenly, Ian broke out into a fit of laughter. Pounds eyebrows shot upward. For about thirty seconds, the dark haired man laughed, the noises wracking his body, not failing to draw the attention of the surrounding people.

Once he became silent again, Pound asked, "What's so funny about a homicide?"

A pained grin appeared on Ian's face. "Keep a secret, will you? Alison DiLaurentis is _alive_."


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of flushing filled Hanna's ears.

She tried blocking it out, along with the familiar feeling of disgust that followed her trips to the bathroom for the past time.

In vain. It kept on creeping up, seemingly devouring her as she remained in the stall of the mall's public bathroom, standing still.

A few minutes later, the blonde heard the clicking of heels hitting the floor as the other person entered.

"Hanna?" Mona called, her voice filled with concern. "Hanna, are you here?"

"Yeah," Hanna whispered weakly, leaning against the stall of her door. After a few seconds, she felt Mona's weight on the other side, pressing her ear onto the thin wood.

"You did it again." her best friend stated. She didn't sound surprised, or disappointed, but a kind of sorrow laced her voice.

"Yeah," Hanna repeated.

"Do you want to let me in?"

With a click, the stall door opened. Sadly smiling, Mona pulled the blonde into a tight hug.

"I'm here for you, Han," she whispered soothingly.

It was true. Mona truly understood the effects of Alison's sharp tongue. She still had to carry around scar cream and concealer in her purse, even over a year after the Queen Bee's reign of terror ended.

More importantly, she knew why Hanna stayed home the night of the father-daughter dance, just as much as why Hanna knew why Mona could not attend the event, even if she wanted too.

Their father's absence and pain that Alison had caused them had bound them together forever. Even when life had treated her so badly, Hanna had gotten Mona out of it, and for that she was grateful.


	4. Chapter 4

Three hundred and sixty-nine days.

That was how long it has been since Emily had last seen Alison.

Since she'd last looked into her beautiful ocean blue eyes, since she's last watched her beautiful blonde hair wave in the wind, since she'd last drowned in that beautiful, stunning, mesmerizing smile of hers.

Every day for the last three hundred and sixty-nine days (probably many more before that, too), Emily had thought about Alison, suffered in her absence, missing the drug that was the other girl's breath.

The swimmer should have been prepared for this. Prepared to step into the church, dressed in black, to say goodbye to the one person she'd loved the most. She had three hundred and sixty-nine days to do so.

Nothing could have prepared her for the body, though.

When it was time to place her chosen item in the casket, Emily couldn't help but cry ( _cry_ isn't the wrong word; _sob_ is more accurate).

The _Alison_ bracelet that the blonde had worn the day she died was still on her wrist (per Emily's request, something she regretted now).

Shakily, she placed a nearly identical accessory in the corpse's fingers, the only difference being Emily's own name written in the fabric, before retreating to the back of the church. There she closed her eyes, and took a moment to breathe.

A tap on her shoulder interrupted her, though.

Hanna - paler, thinner and sicklier looking than Emily had remembered her to be - squeezed her hand.

"C'mon," she whispered. "Let the four of us sit at the front."

The blonde led the now nauseous swimmer to the bench where Aria and Spencer were already sitting.

They were together, like really together, for the first time in three hundred and sixty-nine days.

It was ironic, how they were at her funeral and Emily was thinking that Ali should have been here for this.


End file.
